Another winter, another ice storm — winter in the freezing zone

You call it Interstate 44; I call it the freezing zone. This is the 29th winter my family and I have lived in the southwest Missouri Ozarks, in a city along I-44. Not a winter goes by that we don’t have at least one, and usually more, ice storms which weather forecasters inevitably warn will be coming to “areas along I-44.”

I think when the Eisenhower and his gang back in the 1950s mapped out the early Interstate Highway System God took notice. And, for whatever reason, He decided I-44 was ideal as a convenient weather route to have some fun with. “Ah,” He must have thought, “I think I’ll make I-44 the dividing line between snow and rain. But how will I make that clear to those who love snow and those who prefer rain? How will they know what area to stay out of to avoid the obvious element where snow ends and rain begins — ice that is? Of course! My Me, I should have realized that immediately: Ice and freezing weather will mark that zone far better than putting up signs.”

But, just to make sure we humans would get the point, God allowed not only snow/rain/ice to mix in that freezing zone — He allowed us humans to put up signs marking the zone. They all say “I-44.”

Guess we didn’t get His point, did we? So here we are, stuck every winter with that nasty mix that brings ice storms and power outages.

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